


Titus

by Musafir



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Batfamily, Brothers, Crack Treated Seriously, Family Fluff, Gen, Protectiveness, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 23:43:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18398762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musafir/pseuds/Musafir
Summary: When Tim takes ill, Bruce takes charge, Damian goes on a mission, Dick and Jason try not to spontaneously combust, and Alfred makes soup.





	Titus

**TWELFTH CHAPTER- Titus**

 

How it started: 

 

Bruce whistled sharply once. He patted the edge of the bed and said; 

 

“Titus. Protect.” In a no-nonsense tone. 

 

Titus immediately obeyed. He jumped up onto the bed and curled around the small sleeping figure there.

 

“Good boy.” 

  
  


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

“Has anyone seen Titus?” Damian asked. 

 

“ _ Jesus Christ _ !” Dick shrieked, jumping up.

 

“ _ Fucking _ Hell!” Jason snarled, spinning around and reaching for guns that weren’t there. 

 

Alfred raised an eyebrow that clearly communicated his displeasure with the language he was hearing, but held back any verbal reprimands, instead, holding up a plate questioningly to Damian. 

 

“I have not, Young Sir. Would you care to join us for dinner?” He asked calmly.

 

“No, thank you. What the hell is the matter with these two?” Damian asked, miffed at the response he had received.

 

“Fuc-  _ freaking  _ demon brat. Should get a bell.” Jason said, disgruntled, before dropping back down on the chair shoulders hunched. Dick remained standing, still trying to get his heart to stop thudding in his chest. 

 

“Alfie-” He gasped, “Alfie, I think I’m having a heart attack.” He gripped the edges of the table with a white knuckled grip. 

 

“Again?” Jason asked, with an exasperated frown. 

 

“Do sit down, Master Grayson.” Alfred ordered, swiftly coming around the table. 

 

“Will someone tell me what's going on?” Damian demanded, thoroughly disturbed at the turn his quest for finding Titus had taken. 

 

“Deep breaths Master Grayson.” Alfred said calmly, helping Dick into the chair. “How does your left arm fare?” 

 

“Got dosed.” Jason said to Damian shortly. “Freaking Scarecrow. Got both of us at the same time.”

 

“It's fine.” Dick panted. “Its fine. I think it was just a focused anxiety attack. I’m good.” He slumped back in the chair, exhausted. Alfred brushed his fringe off his face, a look of worry set into the tilt of his mouth and the tight draw of his eyes. 

 

“I will make you soup.” He said firmly. Nobody in the room questioned how that would help. Alfred would make the soup and they would drink it and be magically cured in the way that only Alfred managed to make things happen.

 

“What are the effects of the compound?” Damian asked, as Alfred moved away, bustling around the kitchen. 

 

“Some kind of hyper response to any unexpected stimulus. Supposed to cause you to panic yourself to death. Blah blah, same shit as always.” Jason said, rolling his eyes.

 

“We took the antidote pretty much instantly, we’re doing a lot better than before.” Dick said reassuringly to Damian. Damian raised a scornful eyebrow. 

 

“Tch. As if I care for the health of two buffoons that managed to get dosed at the same time.” He said derisively, narrowing his eyes at Jason’s smirk. “All I care to know is whether you have seen Titus or not. I have been calling for him for a while not and he has not come.” 

 

“Maybe he’s avoiding you like the rest of us try to do?” Jason said, with a smirk. Dick threw a reproachful look at him. 

 

“Maybe he’s outside?” Dick suggested, shooting a glance at the gardens Titus liked to dig in outside the kitchen window. 

 

“Shut up, Todd. I have checked outside already Grayson. Be more imaginative in your suggestions.”  Damian demanded. 

 

“Have you asked Tim?” Dick asked.

 

“I said imaginative. Not ludacris.” Damian scowled. “Titus has better taste.” The insult was reflexive and Damian winced internally even before Dick reprimanded him. 

 

“Dami. Be nice remember. We’re all friends now.” Dick said, frowning gently at him. 

 

“Right, right. Apologies. Fine, I shall take my leave to continue my search.” Damian said, already edging out the door now that no help was to be found here.

 

“Wait! I’m comin’.” Jason said, jumping off his stool. Before Damian could protest that his presence wasn’t required, much less  _ wanted _ , Dick jumped up too. 

 

“Me too! We’ve been here for hours. Alfie! We’ll be back.” Dick called. 

 

“Do take care, Young Sirs.” Alfred said with a frown. “Perhaps it would be better if you remain seated until you are entirely free of any effects?” 

 

“Aww come on, Alfie. We’ll be careful. I’ve been here for hours. About to start climbing the goddamn walls.” Jason whined, a hint of pleading in his tone. 

 

But it was Dick who had the winning argument.

 

“I mean, I guess we could stay. Can we help you cook?” He asked earnestly. 

 

“Out. Be careful. And call me immediately if anything happens.” Alfred waved them out of the kitchen promptly. 

 

“Nice one.” Jason said to Dick as they trailed behind Damian like two unwelcome shadows. 

 

“We all have our strengths.” Dick said serenely. He stretched his arms up above his head and nearly clipped a low hanging chandeliers that Damian and Jason had to duck to avoid. Bruce generally avoided the hallway entirely, and Tim was the only one that never noticed it. 

 

“Do be more careful.” Damian snapped at Dick. “I do not want to have to report your demise to Pennyworth this soon, if you are startled by a brush of glass.” 

 

“Aww, don’t be worried Dami! I feel it fading by the second. We’ll be better soon. How you doing Jay?” 

 

“Think walking it off was a good idea.” Jason said, over Damian’s protests that he wasn’t worried about their health in the least. 

 

“I think we should be fine as long as Titus doesn’t leap out at us. Or any of your other pets.” Dick remarked. 

 

“My pets are not so uncouth as to leap out, Grayson.” Damian scoffed, through admitting internally that, that was exactly what Alfred the Cat enjoyed doing the most. Especially to Bruce. And especially when Bruce was carrying multiple items. 

 

“Uh huh, sure.” Jason said, pushing open the door to a parlour. “Not here.” 

 

“Have you checked this entire floor?” Dick asked, looking into a room further down and scanning it. “Not here either.” 

 

“Titus!” Damian called, ending with a short whistle. They all paused, listening, and heard nothing. Damian’s mouth flattened into a line. “I have checked the third floor, Titus generally isn’t allowed in the personal wings so I skipped the second.” Damian said.

 

Dick stepped out of the hall and into the foyer, he cupped his hands around his mouth and directed his call up the stairs. “Titus!” 

 

No response. 

 

“We should probably check up there. Maybe he was snooping around and got stuck in a room.” Dick said thoughtfully. 

 

“I have trained Titus to not enter the bedrooms.” Damian said dubiously. 

 

“Brat. When does anyone do what you tell them to?” Jason said, already pushing past Damian and heading up the stairs. Damian scowled after him, but hurried behind to catch up to his older brothers. 

 

“Maybe he’s with Bruce?” Dick mused, turning to the right and heading down the corridor that housed the majority of the family bedrooms. 

 

“Not unless he took him to the WE meeting.” Jason said absent mindedly. “What?” He snapped when both Damian and Dick shot him a look. “I overheard him okay? I don’t keep tabs on the old man or nothing.” 

 

“Sure, sure.” Dick said soothingly, pushing open the door to his own bedroom. “Titus?” He called, looking around. “Not here, keep going.” 

 

Damian and Jason headed respectively to their personal rooms, poking their heads in and looking around. Both came up empty, and Damian’s expression tightened more when Jason shook his head at him.

 

“Shut the doors behind you.” Damian called. “I don’t want him getting in behind us.” 

 

“You’re the boss.” Jason rolled his eyes and let the door swing shut behind him. He hadn’t meant to, but the wind caught it at the very last second and slammed it shut, causing noise to echo through the drafty hall. 

 

“ _ Christ _ !” 

 

“ _ Jesus _ !” 

 

“ _ Ruff _ .” 

 

All three of them froze, Jason and Dick with hands clutched over their hearts. 

 

“Was that-?” Dick gasped, quite literally out of breath and looking to the end of the hall. 

 

“I think so, you heard it, right brat?” Jason said, looking weak kneed. 

 

“Yes. I believe that was Titus. It appears that he is either in Father’s bedroom, or Drake’s.” Damian said, body pointed towards the sound, but not moving. 

 

“What are ya waiting for?” Jason prompted. “Go get em.” He rested heavily against the door that had slammed shut behind him. 

 

“I am concerned of the repercussions of the fallout if I leave and you two imbeciles manage to work yourselves up into heart attacks.” Damian said, through gritted teeth. 

 

“Aww, Damian.” Dick said, staggering away from the door and letting his hand drop from his heart. “You’re too sweet, Baby bat.” He forcefully calmed his breathing from its panicking wheeze with a comforting smile. 

 

“Goddamn, Demon brat. Keep a lid on the sappy stuff.” Jason rasped, also pushing himself back upright. 

 

“We’re good. That was the least-worst reaction yet.” Dick said, beaming at Damian. 

 

“I fail to see where you misconstrued my words for care.” Damian said briskly, “But as you two are clearly fine, come along. This hunt is almost over and you might as well see it through.” 

 

Despite his words, Damian waited until both Jason and Dick were level with him before starting to walk again. Jason and Dick shared and amused glance behind his head. Damian caring was the sweetest thing  _ ever _ . 

 

They reached Tim’s door as a group. The heavy oak door was firmly shut, and for a second they stood listening, trying to hear if Tim or Titus were inside. The door firmly kept all its secrets quiet. 

 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Jason asked blatantly, one hand reaching for the knob and swinging the door open. Learning from his mistakes, he didn’t let it go to bang against the wall, and guided it to swing silently open on oiled hinges. 

 

Titus’s panting was immediately heard, even before they saw the massive dog himself. The great dane was lying on Tim’s four poster bed, facing away from them. Damian’s eyes widened. 

 

“Titus!” He hissed, “Come here boy.” He took one step into the room, making way for Dick to slip past him and join Jason in walking towards the bed. 

 

Drake and him had reconciled on many levels, and one aspect of their mutual agreement was that they agreed never to violate each others personal space. Damian wondered if this would count as reneging their agreement. He hoped not, the slender man was slowly becoming one of his most tolerable family members. Not that he would ever say it aloud. 

 

“ _ Titus _ .” Damian called again softly when all Titus did was shift and let out a low whine. 

 

“Oh!” Dick said voice pitched low, reaching the edge of the king sized bed. “That’s precious. Damian, get over here.” 

 

Feeling apprehensive, and with growing worry about why Titus was refusing to rise, Damian quickly stepped over to the bed. What he saw made him blink. 

 

Titus lay, fully awake, and curled around one completely passed out Tim Drake. Tim lay in a mostly curled up fetal position, entirely asleep, body huddling back into the hound for warmth as the blankets lay a few feet from his reach. His slimmer body was completely hidden from view behind Titus’s bulk from the angle at the door. 

 

“Well that's just fucking precious.” Jason said softly, pulling out a phone and snapping a picture. “Hey, you ever think about how ridiculously short Tim is? Can we call him a dwarf or what?” 

 

“He’s not that short.” Dick said softly, rolling his eyes. “I think you have to be under 5 feet? Not sure. Tim’s just curled up.” 

 

Damian privately agreed with Jason; Drake was incredibly small. Titus practically dwarfed him with his height and girth, especially laying in the manner that they had fallen asleep. Tim’s delicate bones next to Titus’s claws set an interesting dichotomy. What evened it was that Damian knew of the steel like strength that lay behind the fragile exterior. 

 

“Titus. Off the bed.” Damian said quietly, snapping his fingers and pointing to his feet. 

 

Titus whined, and looked at him with begging eyes. Damian shot his favorite pet a bewildered look. Titus had never ignored a direct order since the moment Damian had him fully trained. 

 

Titus whined again and this time nosed the top of Tim’s head. Tim shifted and they all froze, Damian with one hand halfway extend to pull at Titus’s collar. Slowly, Damian pulled his arm back and Titus and Tim settled again. 

 

“Dami, Tim doesn’t sleep much. Just let Titus stay. I don’t think he’s being a bother.” Dick said quietly. 

 

“I do not wish him to disturb Timothy’s rest.” Damian said doubtfully. “He is acting odd.” 

 

“I think the brat is right.” Jason said, narrowing his eyes at the protective way Titus was curled up behind Tim. “Something's not right.” He extended a hand and held it right under Tim’s nose, in front of his mouth. “Well. At least he’s breathing.” 

 

“Jason.” Dick snapped. 

 

“What? It’s a legitimate worry with pretty bird and you know it.” Jason shot back. 

 

Damian ignored the sniping and narrowed his eyes at Drake. Perhaps Todd was onto something. It would explain why Titus was acting oddly anyway. He took in the way that Tim’s face appeared pale, and he clearly sought warmth, but at the same time there was a sheen of cold sweat on his brow. Damian stepped right up to the bed and leaned over Titus to touch Tim’s forehead with the back of his hand. 

 

Warm. Too warm. 

 

“Drake is ill.” Damian announced quietly. 

 

“What?” Dick asked, breaking his attention away from Jason mid sentence.

 

“Drake is ill.” Damian repeated, gesturing at the heavily slumbering vigilante. “I believe that we have made enough noise that he would have woken by now, had he been perfectly alright.” 

“The brat’s got a point.” Jason said with a frown.

 

“Back up, guys.” Dick ordered instantly, “Don’t touch him anymore.” 

 

Despite following the eldest Robin’s order immediately, because he had said it in  _ that  _ tone, Jason and Damian looked at him in askance. 

 

“No spleen, remember? And  _ we  _ might take our shots because Bruce is a psycho about making sure we do, but some viruses can live outside of a host for a while.” Dick explained. 

 

“Grayson...I touched his head to take his temperature.” Damian said, unease beginning to churn in his gut. 

 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Dami.” Dick immediately reassured. Damian wasn’t young and naive enough to miss the instant worry that had appeared behind the man’s eyes. 

 

“Whas’ goin’ on?” The exhausted slurred voice of their smallest, recently awakened, ex-robin had them all jumping; even Damian. He had apparently blinked awake sometimes after Damian touched his head. 

 

Dick and Jason’s reactions had Tim sitting up in alarm though, and he leaned over the side of the bed with wide eyes to take in his gasping brothers. 

 

“We’re...good…Timmy.” Jason gasped, on his knees, one hand clutching the dresser and the other pressed against his rib cage. 

 

“Get...back...under...blankets….” Dick forced out, on hands and knees, eyes shut tightly, and head low. 

 

“ _ What’s going on _ ?” Tim asked again, voice stronger as the adrenaline from worry hit him. 

 

“Drake. It is alright. You have taken ill.” Damian said, attempting to be soothing. 

 

“I’m not asking what’s going on with me! I’m asking what's going on with them!” Tim exclaimed, flinging a hand to his gasping elder brothers. “Why do Dick and Jay look like they are about to have heart attacks?!” 

 

He made to leave the bed and then froze, confounded, as all three of his brothers shouted and jumped away. Well, Damian jumped away, Dick rolled, and Jason army crawled. 

 

“What….” Tim was at a loss for words. 

 

“Don’t come near us!” Damian shouted.

 

“Save yourself, Timmy!” Dick gasped. 

 

“Have some fucking sense of self preservation!” Jason lectured. 

 

“Guys. I’m really-...” Tim started, putting a hand to his temple and trying to push away the budding headache. 

 

Titus growled. 

 

They all froze. Titus  _ never  _ growled. 

 

Damian instantly calculated the fastest trajectory to getting Titus away from Tim, and was about to spring over and wrestle his dog away when Titus moved first. 

 

Titus gently nosed at Tim’s chest, until Tim was lying back against the pillow, and then dropped his head on Tim’s stomach. He clearly had no plans of moving any time soon. Tim carded his fingers through Titus’s fur and stared, bewildered, at the ceiling. 

 

“Can someone explain to me what’s going on?” He asked quietly. Titus snuffled on his chest. 

 

“ _ That _ , sounds like a wonderful question. _ What is going on here? _ ” 

 

Bruce did not know, when he cut the meeting short at WE due to some lingering worry about the common, completely treatable, cold that his third son had contracted, that leaving early and coming home to check on said son would cause his two eldest to go into shock as a result of too much stimulus in a short amount of time. 

 

He really wished that he was better informed. 

 

Thirty minutes after talking Jason and Dick out of their shock with the combined help of Alfred and Damian, Tim being gently but firmly asked to remain in the bed, Bruce sat heavily at the foot of Tim’s bed, wondering what horrible crimes he must have committed in a past life to have to deal with this now. 

 

It was really the only explanation.

 

Dick and Jason lay on the floor still, this time more from exhaustion than imminent death, and Damian sat cross legged between them, keeping a finger on their pulses. He looked extremely displeased. Alfred had rushed off as soon as Dick and Jason were out of the red zone to go fetch soup. 

 

“Bruce?” Tim whispered so quietly that Bruce knew if he hadn’t been sitting so close, he wouldn’t have heard the call. 

 

Bruce glanced over his shoulder to see Tim huddled at the headboard with Titus and a blanket. He was taking in the proceedings with a wide eyed look that said he still wasn’t sure if this was some dream he was stuck in as a result of cold medicine. 

 

Bruce extended an arm back and Tim scurried into it, pressing against his side and leeching his warmth greedily. Bruce sighed contently. 

 

“How are you feeling, kiddo?” He whispered, nosing the top of Tim’s head. 

 

“Really confused.” Tim whispered back, shaking his head and displacing Bruce. He looked up, “What’s going on? Are Dick and Jason okay?” 

 

“Scarecrow.” Bruce said, seeing the understanding instantly light Tim’s eyes. His smart cookie of a son. “I synthesized a cure, all they had to do was stay away from surprise stimulus for a few hours.” Bruce groaned. 

 

Tim giggled nearly silently. His look was all Bruce needed to know what he was thinking. 

 

“Yeah yeah, I know. What was I thinking? It’s too much to ask.” Bruce said ruefully. 

 

“They're okay now.” Tim consoled. 

 

“How about you? How are you feeling?” Bruce asked. 

 

“Better than this morning.” Tim said immediately. 

 

Bruce squinted at him, and then reached out and pet Titus on the head. 

 

“He telling the truth?” He asked Titus, mock seriously. “Did he stay in bed all day and rest?”

 

“Bruce,” Tim groaned, “I literally just woke up when the three stooges burst into my room. I still don’t know what they were doing.”  

 

Bruce looked at his eldest sons, still not making a move to lift themselves off the floor, and his youngest, who was looking like he was ready to get up and leave them to die. 

 

“Lets go easy on them.” He suggested to Tim, “Looks like they’re having a tough day.” 

 

“Just this once.” Tim said, with a silent laugh. “Titus, go over to Dami and calm him down before he stabs Jay.” 

 

Tim motioned Titus towards Damian, and was instantly confused when Titus looked at Bruce. Bruce nodded and Titus jumped up, happily wagging his tail. Tim raised an eyebrow at Bruce.

 

“What was that about?” He asked, nonplussed. 

 

“Titus is a very good dog.” Bruce said sagely. 

 

Tim stared at him, unimpressed. 

 

“Time for soup.” Alfred flowed into the room and the moment was lost. “Everyone up, I want to hear no complaints!” 

 

“Yes, Alfred.” All the Wayne boys choursed. Titus woofed. 

 

It was time for soup. 


End file.
